


Green Thumb

by HappyAria



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Catalyst compliant, Gardening, Happy Ending, I really need them to be happy alright?, M/M, Run Away, farming, with an alternative ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9275027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyAria/pseuds/HappyAria
Summary: Kriff, he is ー was the top of the Future Program, praised as a brilliant engineer, but can’t manage to grow a single damn plant.





	

His hands are covered in dirt. Like wearing black gloves. He misses them again, the garden gloves, not the leather one.

 

The man sighs, looking down at the flower bed. Still nothing grows. He begins to think that the old bastard might deceive him, selling roasted beans instead of whatever he told. Or maybe, he just sucks at it, which is not surprising at all. There’s the reason why it’s Galen who does all the jobs.

 

“The irrigation system was your work, Orson,” the man used to comfort him, a flash of rare fondness in his eyes. Yes, he tries to take part in their ‘little project’ as much as possible. But once a man who dreamt of glory and power, farming is the least expected denouement, especially doing things that can put the word ‘kyper crystal’ and ‘agriculture’ together. His battle is defeated by the love for a man who seems to belong entirely to something he never understands. An utterly suicidal mission, a bet with the devil, abandoning that life, all just for saving fragile souls like an act of charity. He used to call that feeling weakness. However, he never senses a trace of regret.

 

‘No one will know about this,’ he decides. Galen’s act of consolation is pretty much appreciated but still not helpful. Even he prefers Jyn’s bluntness. Kriff, he is ー was the top of the Future Program, praised as a brilliant engineer, but can’t manage to grow a single damn plant. Annoyance is boiling at the back of his mind. The man tries to call up the day he was strolling down a remote outpost looking for tools, food, and a chance of jobs. He met this mysterious thing sitting on the ground with a huge bag in front him. The ex-soldier thought he was hallucinating when he saw flower buds under the ragged hood. Some begin to break; revealing its true colour shyly.

 

The merchant called it “Poppy.” Sounds like a nickname. “Grows well in cold weather like here. In my home, we offer to th’ dead caused by wars; soldier, love one,” said the man. “Red for blood. White for peace. Sort o’ remembrance. Hopin’ they could find peace. Ah peaceful sleep ! O’ course ! Have to try smokin’ ‘em one day.”

 

 

The fog was normal in Eadu, but he swore he could see the familiar silhouette of a ghost from a long past. Her body lied somewhere among an unnamed ruin, broken, rotten above ground without a proper burial. Nearly dragged her husband down with her as he watched his friend suffered minor injuries with a broken heart, doing nothing but crying and hugging his months old babe until he lost counts (couldn’t help it.) Galen never blamed him. The rescue was still a success as long as there was a survivor. He dared say they weren’t friends, that woman, but he could not shake the idea that he stole her future, her life, her family.

 

He took the seeds without hesitation. 

 

He looks at the deathbed one more time before standing up. Soft groan escapes his mouth as the sudden shift of position cracks his back. Pain becomes a reminder of his old age; not time anymore (he barely keeps up with it nowadays). Sometimes it’s the sight of the young girl who appears to grow a bit taller every time he doesn’t pays any attention. The wind is howling, caressing his pale face. Pierced blue eyes glance at wild green fields running along the horizon. He’s still surprised that Eadu is not inhospitable as they used to think. An isolated underpopulated planet hanging by the edge of the galaxy, cold, wet, black with smear of green. They have lived here for years, still they don’t quite fathom how the season works. However, the experiment has turned out to be positively unexpected. “Nothing is impossible when we’re together,” follows by a soft touch on his forehead that feels like a reward. He can’t remember who says that, doesn’t matter anyway.

 

He hears a voice echo in the wind, thinking it carries the sound of wave roaring from the sea. So he doesn’t expect, as he turns back, to see a young girl rushing down the moor towards him at full speed, her well-made braids waving like rabbit ears.

 

“ No, Jyn, dear. My hands are dirty. Jyn! ” The girl jumps and lets herself into his embrace. He suppresses another groan. Of course, she never listens to him, why now? “You looks mad, uncle Orly. Stop s-sulking. It makes you scary. ” He huffs a laugh. She must memorize that from him. His favourite line for his favourite man.

 

“Nothing sweetie,” he can hear her mumble ‘I’m not sweet ’ “Why are you out?”

 

“Papa calls for dinner. You’re late,” now she’s one who sulks. “I’m hungry! ”

 

From the corner of his eyes, high up the field, he sees a tall figure standing near the small cottage. He swears he can see those tired yet gentle eyes watching them from afar, like how the girl in his arms is looking at him now. Same colour with spray of little sparkling stars, same hardness ー no, bravery, the little part of her that he can save and keep it burning alive. His heart jitters, feeling the sensation of something fluttering free as he carries the girl back home.

 

\--

 

Weeks later, the poppies pop.

 

It turns out they are all white.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Bonus Art](http://s1102.photobucket.com/user/zoprano13/media/poppy00_1.jpg.html) by me
> 
> Find me @ epiimetheux.tumblr.com  
>  


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